


Bloody Mess

by jojenrad



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, branjen, firstfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojenrad/pseuds/jojenrad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bran and Jojen are all alone in the woods, without Meera and Hodor to watch over them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gods' Chosen Green Boy

Bran doesn’t remember anything much other than that they were attacked, wildlings probably. He must’ve hit his head hard because he blacked out. Upon awakening it was hard to breathe and he didn’t know where he was. Large trees covered in snow surrounded him; he thought to call out for help but then decided it wouldn’t be great if the wrong people heard him. Empty of other options, Bran camouflaged himself with snow and rocks which made him freeze.

A few minutes later, Jojen emerged with kindling in hand almost not noticing Bran hiding under the snow, shivering like a leaf.

“My lord! My lord you’re turning blue!” Jojen yelled as he pulled the boy out of the snow and hugged him in hopes of bringing some color back into his skin.

“I th-thought I was alone, I th- y-you were…” Bran struggled out between chattering teeth, needing to finish his sentence but failing.

Jojen not wanting Bran to exhaust himself trying to speak answered all the questions he knew Bran was going to ask. “We were attacked by wildings, Hodor dropped you whilst fighting back and I had to drag you out of there… I couldn’t let you die and I, I left them. I left him and Meera.”

Jojen watched Bran’s expressions, he looked terrified yet brave, never letting his walls down. He’d have to explain later, he realized then moved to build the fire. It was nearing dusk as the boys sat in the darkness, aching for warmth. 

“I’ve been trying to find Summer,” Bran said breaking the silence “He should’ve found me by now but he hasn’t. I can’t reach him.” he finished, shuddering.

 _"This is not the day I die."_ Jojen reminded himself. They were going to find Hodor and Meera, they just had to find their strength again. Maybe in each other.

“They’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking, they’re probably looking for us right now. We’re going to find them, my lord.” The young warg said, staring deep into Bran’s eyes and immediately looking away after realizing that he was.

There had always been an attraction between them that confused Jojen and he knew it went far beyond pure admiration. He was certain Bran felt the same way, they were too similar for him not to acknowledge it, they knew each other. The way Bran’s breath would hitch when Jojen was too close to him for comfort. Bran staring at him whenever he had the chance and not taking his glances away when Jojen noticed. Both of them felt it, they just never knew what to do other than bear the horrible tension and avoid touching whenever unnecessary.

Jojen never felt that way towards anyone before, not before Bran. He sometimes had the urge to grab him and kiss him until his lips were sore. Urges he knew he could never act on. This made it all the harder being around him, looking at him, talking to him and looking at the way his lips moved. Bran’s presence and the silence between them weren’t making things easier.

“You should rest, my lord, I’ll take watch.”

“You should rest too, the fire’s dead and this place feels… concealed, if someone were to find us they would have by now.”

Jojen, as if to oblige, pretended to be asleep. He then sat up once Bran drifted off. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jojen knows that to keep us both alive he needs his strength, yet he doesn’t seem to want it. He pretends to be asleep, pretends he’s not about to starve to death and pretends he’s strong. All this pretending, all of it for my sake. I don’t want him to pretend. Pretending won’t get us to the three-eyed crow, to Hodor and Meera. I am a pretender myself, but I was made to be one.

“I know you’re awake, Jojen.” I say as I prop myself up on my elbows.

“I know you do.” He says, opening eyes that have probably been watching me for the past few hours of my sleep.

“After being with you all this time, traveling alongside you, waking up and falling asleep with your stories still playing in my head… I know you… I thought I would completely understand you by now but sadly I don’t.”

“There’s very little you understand about me, my lord.”

I hate titles. Hate the way they could easily build bridges between people. I want him to call me Bran. I want the comfort of my name coming out of his mouth.

“I just can’t afford anything else going wrong after-”

He looks at me accusingly as he sits up and crosses his legs “You’re just too important all right? You matter-“

“Yes I know! I’m the only one thing that matters I’m the gods’ chosen green boy!” I almost yell, cutting him off.

“No Bran, you matter to _me_! Not the _bloody gods_!”

A part of me wanted to fire back at him, another was too frozen with the recollection of him saying my name.

“Don’t call me “my lord” again.”

“Bran?”

“Bran.”


	2. Arbor Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while but here's the second chapter guys! Also I apologize in advance for lack of updates because exams are coming up and I'm going to be busy pretending to study.

**Bran.**

That is all that has been swimming around in my head for as long as I can remember. I am obsessive I am pathetic I resent myself.

If thought can lead a person to self-destruction I think I have achieved it. I did not and do not care. Knowing when you’re going to die does that to a person, but he’s become a new found reason for me to live. At this point, it’s not just _want_ anymore it’s pure _need_. Need to be as close to him as possible, need to keep him safe and pleased, need to never stop talking to him and _I am so tired_ but I need to keep talking to him. The more that my thoughts drown me the more that my desire grows and I have never known desire but it’s hitting me like tides, washing away my sanity and I’m drowning into him as he drinks me in and my life’s starting to be worth it as it’s never been unworthy _but then I awaken._

It sadly only takes me a few seconds to remember the misery that is existence.

But he’s in my embrace. Stripping away my heat under layers and layers of fur and although my stomach is crying for bread, for a moment I feel at peace. I shift and wake him and I curse myself for disturbing the calm ocean that he is but my breeches were in a tidal wave. I jerk abruptly and turn towards the forest as I try to cover what’s left of my dignity.

“I’ll go food hunting.” I struggle out before storming off.

Then I remember that I probably shouldn’t have left him alone but that’s the safest place we’ll ever hope for, for now.

I take quiet steps as I grab the knife I hidden in my pockets out and I know that my chances of finding anything edible, alive or dead are slim. The pits being dig in my stomach keep me going, though. I carve the trees as I walk so that I don’t lose my way back to Brandon. After what seems like two years I feel my body shutting down and cold…I’m cold everywhere. _I need to go back_ but I need to feed Bran _maybe I’ll lie down a little here_ but you can’t Jojen you’ll die _just a little bit…look! It’s a puppy! It’s a brown pup with long pointy ears!_ That’s a rabbit Jojen! Catch it catch it catch it! I lunge for it, jabbing at its head. The joy and absolute bliss heighten my senses in time for me to strike its brothers. Four rabbits. The gods must really _really_ love me. I carry them on my back as I drag myself back to Bran. I hope he’s alive. 

When I find my way back to “camp”, he’s already built a fire. As if he knew I’d find something. I wonder to myself if he were watching me? But then is he strong enough? He would’ve found summer, Hodor and Meera had he been. I smile as I show him what I’ve reaped. We try to skin one together, miserably failing of course. Meera and Osha were the skinners of our group. We’ve lost both to the road.

“We’re hopeless.” Bran lets out as blood bursts onto his face.

He must’ve hit an artery and I can’t help but laugh and _laugh_ at him.

“What’s so amusing Jojen? You’re not at all better than me at this.” I can tell he’s trying so hard not to laugh.

Only when the snow turns into a sea of wine do I realize Bran’s literally in a _bloody mess_.

“Here-“ I say as I stumble on the snow in an attempt to reach him, eventually falling and choking on the smell.

Bran desperately tries to drag me on to him as I slip and drag him down with me. We crash into each other, laughing. The realization of how close our bodies are makes my heart beat faster, the smell of dead rabbit and blood doesn’t do well to my imagination, though. The laughing dies as the tension grows stronger.

I manage to stand up and carry him, one arm under his head, and the other falls under his knees. I put him down, away from the blood as I yield a cloth and try to get the blood off of his face and hands. I study his features as I do my work. His eyes I notice, the deep blue eyes that haunt me every day in my dreams, are actually way more beautiful than I thought. His daring stares devour me and I feel our souls are connected. As if there was nobody in this world but us, as if nobody even existed before this moment. I try to wake up from my dream but then I don’t and I know it’s real but it destroys me when he closes his eyes. Then, I kiss him. I kiss him, striving for that connection again not knowing what his kiss would bring me. How this simple act would intertwine our souls and feelings. And I feel him, I feel him everywhere. The deepest parts of his soul, his hidden sorrows, his hidden desires. My hand cups his face as the other pulls him closer. And it's so _messy_ but we don't care. I move my messiness down his neck, under his ear and back to his lips again as I see him shiver under my touch. I never want to be without him again, I realize. It’s a sickening feeling, need, that is. We break apart, but our minds stay in sync.

After that I feel drunk, as if the remains of blood on his lips were arbor gold.


	3. I've Been With Jojen Reed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I forced myself to finish this tonight because I have another Branjen fic that I want to work on after my exams and I am so sorry guys for how late I am on updates but I just wasn't feeling well after that horrible thing that we don't talk about that happened in the season 4 finale. I hope you guys enjoy this and I'm sorry for how fast paced it is and I know I'm an awkward writer but oh well. ALSO THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AND LEAVING KUDOS AND COMMENTING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS. BRANJEN LIVES ON.

After _the kiss_ , I get up, face flushed, barely able to stand up on my feet, leaving Bran to deal with the blood on his face. If we’re to rely on physical touch to help us forget the hunger, we’re sure to starve to death. I manage to skin both rabbits (more what’s left of them) and get them on the fire. As I do my work I notice his eyes following my every move. Recalling what just happened makes it all the harder. Remembering the feel of his rough lips on mine, how soft the skin under his ear is and his ragged breathing makes my nerves shakier than they already are. I feel like I’m going to collapse any minute now but I manage to get a hold of myself.

A few minutes pass and the smell of cooked meat overwhelms me. My stomach growls, almost louder than summer. Summer…

Bran looks about clean now, a few stains here and there but I’m sure about one thing. The growling is mutual. We share our meal in silence, driven by the hunger, too busy to think or even feel awkward about _it_.  

“I can’t believe this is actually happening right now.” I moan between bites, juice dripping down my chin. Bran looks shocked for a minute, definitely misreading what I’m referring to. The amusement I get out of it is more satisfying than the meat in my belly. “The food, of course.” I smirk at him, raising an eyebrow and looking him dead in the eyes, to my surprise, he chokes. I feel bad for laughing at him but I justify it with throwing him my skin of water. He gulps it up then avoids my gaze. I kill the fire after we finish the last of the rabbits. He can’t avoid me now.

The energy I get out of the food makes me feel so alive. But there’s something I crave even more than food. Him. It’s pretty selfish of me and I know it and _I don’t care_ because he wants it as much as I do. Maybe even more, I realize after the flashes I got from the kiss. He sees us together and _he wants me too!_ We’ve both felt it for months, I just don’t know how to approach him…

“Jojen.” His voice shocks me back into reality. I must’ve been doing my thinking-really-hard-like-my-life-depends-on-it face.

“Y-yes Bran-Brana-Brandon.” I slur out, trying to look as my usual confident self.

“You’re doing _the face_ Jojen you look like you’re about to explode.”

“I-I” am at loss of words. I’ve never been at loss of words my entire life, not even when I was a toddler. But the sudden confidence radiating off of Bran knocks me off my feet.

“Seven hells Jojen, come here.” I stare at him for a while then abide. I sit down beside him and I feel so anxious and it’s weird because I’m _Jojen Reed_! I’m angry at myself and at him for having so much control over my emotions. He must mean way more to me than I thought. 

“You’re doing the face again Jojen you look like you’re at war-“ I shut him up by kissing him, overcoming my anxiety and feeling confident again. I sit myself atop of him and push him down. He smells of old snow and blood, his cold hands on the back of my neck and on my waist, pulling me closer. I move back a bit and strip the clothes off his chest as his icy touches break the knots of my clothes apart. I keep my cloak on top of us as I almost bite the flesh of his neck off, my need overwhelming me. He lets out a pained moan but his hands, now inside my breeches assure me that he’s okay. I, on the other hand moan in agony at his touch. His cold hands almost freeze me but soon enough they warm up. I move my hand down his breeches now, clumsily working on him as I keep my lips pressed to his neck, not even kissing him anymore, just breathing heavily into each other’s necks as our bodies contract in pleasure. 

After that I immediately clothe us both back but I stay atop of him. We kiss for a while but then retreat to just staring at each other, as we always do but it thankfully doesn’t feel awkward and pained anymore. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.” I say, pressing my forehead to his.

“I think I kind of do. You weren’t that bad.” 

“Says Brandon stark, heir to Winterfell, who’s been with exactly not a single boy or a girl in his life.”

“I’ve been. With a boy. I’ve been with Jojen Reed.”


End file.
